The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1887-11-20


spot fun dc wurl, he went on in hollow voice.
rolling his eyes in their cave-Iike sockets, aud
shaking MS gray old head; then he fall to shift
ing his long aud bony figure from one foot to
another. This movement established to the
verge of monotony. one foot shambed little
an cad the other struck out for it. and they
had 1t, which and the other. and that Is the way
Father Isaacs slap-footed off down the road to
Estmere.
What happened on the road to Estmerel All!
ii all the sights and sounds, the doinRs and I'M
doines. that road could be per-
fectly accounted for and recorded,
there had need be other books
:he mule that managed the whole business.
That astute beast organized and conducted such
a system of advancing, retrearuR baking. kick
ing cavorting, and not getting there human
ingenuity has seldom equaled. II Rags had been
born in circumlution Office, and foddered with
red tape every day of his life. it is doubtful il
he could have got ahead of himself in pure back
wardness Under his leadership the Isaacs fam
iiy spent two DAYS and night on the road.
They arrived at Estmerej ate the afternoon
of the second day. Lame and halt were this
devoted family, much tied up IN brown paper
and vinegar, and very bulgy as to foreheads and
cheekbon@s. cavaicade they were, indeed. as
they swept around the curve OF the grass-grown
carriage way, but more forlorn one had seldom
rallied at the castle Of their chief.
Estmere had formerly been one OF the fine
estates of the country. Somewhat in its decad-
the beginning OF the war. that calamity
flcned from it the last vestise of afiuence, and
left it to itself up with taxes and Ill manage
ment
Here, upon a mere strip of it's broad acres tho
house. still stood, in form and proportion q state
~ mansion as Of old. But it cried oct for re-
pairs from every pore Of its weather-beaten
boards. its rickety blinds and broken lattices
its slouching steps and crumbling decoration.
Here, where once had fonrished a large family
and a retinue of servants, Miss Estmere. almost
unattended, met alone the bleak existence
which poverty and loneliness forced upon her.
She was a woman in middle life who still held
the hearts of her old family servants-slaves no
g 49,
the needs of life had forced them to a separa-
tion
rs dom come to see you. Miss May" Father
Isaacs began, as Miss Estmers came out on the
piazza to meet them. IT'S done como to see
you COS Kumpsy an de ole woman go. de start.
an lis Tow dey want fit to trabble lone-Ts had
a heap ob trouble gettin' EN- troo."
At this nanny shed smile of large but toll
Grant scorn upon her better-half.
''Yo knows dat ole daddy yousef, Miss May.
Yous knowed him from de beginnin. clar to
goodness eff didu't Eose1y hab to cay him all
the way myself; but rs boun' to get Kumpsy here
on horseback eff had to cay forty ole niggers
an de horse was q mule dat stood still and went
back ward mos OBJ de way hissef."
AN is boun' to ride Rags TO yo' house. Miss
May, eff had to tote him all &c way, an de rest
ob de family. too" piped mp Kumpsy.
No mention of the telegram. No one knew
about it but Kumpsy, and iI had iapsed entirely
from the boys mind amid the perils of the way
and the exctements of the arrival
The sight Of Estmere in it's wintry desolatons
struck slabs to mammy's faithful heart. She
longed to console her dear mistress, gentle, SO
proud. SO lonely and SO poor. But nanny
own soul, that an Estmere could be lonely
poor, but she had the tact of love, which never
.blnnders
miss May. it looks beautiful to see you
standin ont on de piazza like dat" she began.
her black face shining with love and pride.
Honey" she went on, her voice . caress. rye
to wen dar want hischin,posts huff for yo'
beaux. an ole massa was a-tearin' roun' mad
cause dey bosses gnawed de young trees"
Miss Estmere shook her head, and smiled
through her tears. "Oh, nanny, nanny,
every thing is different"
ION, OBJ co'se, honey" the negress admitted,
warilv. 'somet'ings is diffsrent dey is boun' to
be different. Oar is dem young men wot yo'
wouldn't hab nor look at I suppose dey is
gnashin' deir toof somewhat wuss dan deir
bosses gnaw de trees. But. laws honey, dey's
eff yo' he'd married dem all. coz dey mostly got
killed in de yah, an yo'd he'd noihin' but fu-
uerals wild en-"
Not marrying funerals must be of my
uneounted mercies." laughed Miss Estmere.
There need of it, she added, with a
sigh. 1--WE had enough of our own"
Eyes, Miss May; and dey was fine funerals
an dar wuz a-many oh 'em along at one time.
De Estmeres went out, as it were, plenten-
tiously."
Nanny knew, alas, that the grandeur of this
word could not conceal the gloom of the subject,
and with it she closed her attempt at uplifting
and be:ook herself to the kitchen
to vent her emotions by berating her own fam
lily.
edgy voice, of Father 1saacs, who nursing
his bruises over the dying fire. Dem ole mule
kicks ain all de trouble OAR is in de WORT. Dem
mule kicks come day, go day. an da's all; but
dey is trouble dat sits down in de house, an
walks roun' in de yard. an hangs ober de roof
Ill. yo can't keep de rain out OBJ it. an de fires
won't burn, an de -four won't stay in de barrel,
an de chickens won't stay in de coop"
'Wot hev l been doin' now, Mrs. IsaacsW
I'D ~E %t.n So s1~~ -
''You's bean swajing dem old mule kicks long
huff Yo Timber yo'se'f on Miss Mays wood
pile. Wot kin o fire is dat fire Miss May got
il de pahior?-sich fzz in de middle an drip
wood an water mixed wen he bring EN- in for
Miss May He t'ink Miss May burn rain-wat
On dem pahlor andirons"
He keeps a pow'ful lot O. daylight in Miss
Mays wood pile-does SO, said Father Isaacs,
the wood-pile critically. and airing
his eye of the hollow gum-tree logs.
Dem is drafty sticks for ole split
mp wild de rhoomatism-das SOL"
"Dar aim nothin' good for Rags in de sto'-
ROOM" walled kumpsy- Il peeked."
Den take dat: an dat" cried nanny. Selling
the only scion of her stock and boxing his ears
take dat, an learn yo' manners Don yo' GO
peekin' roun' wot Miss May vent got. Don fool
talk no mo- bout dat mule wen dar vent no
chicken. nor no fresh eggs for Miss Mays break
fast'
Pears like Tijah in de wilderness roun
here" said Father .Isaacs. leaning on his to
'.But dar's de angels, he went on. rolling up
the whites of his eyes. AN de angels Is good
FOR being roun' always an ebery whar in gen'ral.
an dom things that nobody don't know wheder
ley happens or not; but dey ant up an comfy
Eid hot meals wen yous gone in de stomach
DE angels amt a-mindin odder folks bust
ness, daddy, das why dey dom wrastle wild dat
wood pile. an yo' a-standiu' ober it holdin on to
lie AK. Das why dey amt gwue to cook Miss
NAYS supper. an me a-limberin' aroun' wild
nothin' else to do. No. daddy. De ans els is de
as call. Dey waits till de las strain is ready to
bust, an den dey comes in wild deir wings ATOP
PIN an de music a-blowin' in dc long horns"
The biz of hot supper which nanny cor jured
40 and the bright fire made point of cheer for
Miss Estmere in the great parlor, but as night
closed down. the shadows of a hopeless poverty
,ame out by legicns and huddled miseraby in
svery corner of the long corridors and deserted
rooms of Estmere Hall. and nanny, she
rushed through them felt the ghosts grab at her
As she ran. She dropped upon a bench in the
kitchen, flung her apron over her head. and
rocked back and forth wailing.
''Oh, dear Lordy, don yo' see dat Miss Mav's